Wednesday, June 24, 2015

"...Oh, I didn't realize... That you wrote poetry... I didn't realize you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly..."- The Smiths, "Frankly, Mr. Shankly"

Once upon a time, there was a girl... although she didn't know it until relatively late in her life. Her name was Olivia... or that was he name she chose for herself when she realized that she was a girl. Before she'd understood that she was indeed a girl, Olivia wrote poetry occasionally; and every once in a great while, she had tried to write what she envisioned as short stories. She'd invariably gotten stuck at some point on each and every one of them. She kept pushing her feelings away, most often using copious amounts of drugs to accomplish the heinous task.

Among the myriad of reasons that Olivia found herself feeling guilty was because she wasn't writing, something she figured out that she had a talent for. She felt shame as well, and among the reasons for this was that she was hungry for acceptance and love; two things that she could never seem to give herself, despite the yearning she had for both. Olivia was also very afraid at times... She'd be so concerned about what other people thought about her (and to a lesser extent, her written output, or lack thereof; virtually nonexistent at some very low and nearly stagnant points in her life), that she didn't get that it didn't really matter how others viewed her... What really mattered, Olivia later found out; was how she thought and felt about herself.

Liv (one of Olivia's nicknames, which she liked because it sounded like the word "live"; which was all she really wanted to do once she dug that she was a girl) had made a bunch of changes in her life, one of which was to resume writing. This helped her get in touch with the feelings she'd pushed away for decades, helping her to grow as both a person and a writer. She wrote more poetry, and some of it has been included here so that you lucky people could read it...

Livy here... I wrote this April 27th... It's what I would say to "the boy" if I actually ever had the chance... It doesn't rhyme, but whatever...

Woman In Progress

U know me... U've always known meU spent over three decades pushing me awayPushing me into a corner, the same corner U've finally painted Urself intoWell, guess who's ready to pounce... That's right, it's Ur girlAll that time, all that money, all the life you wastedTrying to shove me down into a mental oublietteWell, it didn't work, did it? U tried to drink me away... I survivedU tried to smoke me away with drugs of all kindsI roared back with a vengeance... I wouldn't be deniedU kept trying, again and again, to silence my voiceEven when I was on Ur side, still U tried to muffle meEven when I was the only person who gave U a chanceU dismissed me as just figment of Ur drug-addled imaginationA "What If?" straight out of the saddest comic book everU left everything U'd ever known behind in a frantic searchFor the love U desperately needed in Ur lifeBut could never ever give Urself, even if U had tried toAnd I was always there, just out of earshotOn the edge of Ur field of vision... There I was...Watching... Waiting... Fighting every effort U made to silence meWell now, U finally see me as I am... as I've always beenI am a little worse for wear, though... U put up a good fightBut now U're slowly realizing that I was right all alongU made a complete mess of Ur life... Ur sad, wasted lifeU had such potential... But U chose to stop after the first 3 lettersAll that all that weed did was slow me downIt made U take such a very, very long time to acknowledge meI've always been here, and I always will beI'm a part of U, whether U like it or notAnd whether I like it or not, U're a part of me, tooI'm taking the few good parts of U and making them my ownAnd don't even think that the fight is overEven though I now have the upper hand, I haven't won yetThough as long as I have breath, I'll continue to fight UU're finally down, but U're not out... YetBut U're tired.. I can see it in the lines on your faceAnd I'm gaining strength... U can see it in my confident smileI WILL beat U... I WILL take what's mine!!!And I won't stop until U're just someone from my distant pastSomeone who used to call this battered body homeSomeone who tried, tried, and tried; again and again and againTo get rid of me... To squash me... To ace me...Well, now guess who's holding all the aces? That's right, meI'm in charge now... and succeeding at things U only dreamed ofAnd I'll keep succeeding, because I have more drive that UI've fought for my life for decades... Do U think I'll quit now?Do U think I'll let up just because I'm winning?Guess again... This is MY time to shine, bright eyesU are through holding my body hostage... It's my turnSo prepare to be locked away, as U tried to do to meWhere U failed, I WILL succeed!!! Because I have no choiceThis is MY life now... It's not Urs anymoreU have no claim to it any longer... It's mineAnd every single day that passes just makes me strongerI'm a woman in progress... & I'm better than U ever could beMaybe THAT'S why U tried to push me away all those yearsMaybe it was out of fear... The abject fear I see in Ur eyes even nowLook into my eyes. Go ahead... What do U see?I'll tell U... A woman who's had all she can take of UI'm pushing harder than ever, to rid U from this bodyU'll be relegated to memories... Sad little thoughts of the pastBuckle up... The future might be bumpy, but it'll be greatMY future...My life...And silencing U, will be MY victoryIt's all over but the crying... U've lostI am ascendant... And I WILL prevail!!

I wrote this one on May 20th... It's about the never-ending journey I'm on...

Inexorable

The road has just begunIt's the toughest road I've ever been onThere's no bike, no car, no busJust my tired, numb feet, plodding alongDon't think I don't hear the naysayersI hear their snickers, their scornI hear their hateful laughterAs they disdain my journeyMy purpose, my raison d'etreI keep moving forward, ever onwardI look for signposts in the distanceI know that others have travelled this roadAnd ventured down the path I treadI see mementoes, memorials to the fallenThe ones overwhelmed by the journeyI pause for a brief moment to honor themTheir struggle fuels my resolveSpurring me to continue onI'm here because I must beBecause I know that this roadWill get me to where I need to beThere are many pitfalls on this pathI learn to sidestep themI trudge on, with raw hamburger feetBloodied by the hard road I walkThis is the way... It's gotta beThrough hardships and trialsI slowly slough towards happinessI grin wryly at the gathering cloudsAs the inexorable road stretches to the horizon

when her actual feelings are deeper than the Marianas Trench; and are so hot to the touch, as would burn up the things she values the most

so she soft-pedals... understates... touches lightly upon those sensitive subjects

a bit of dandelion fluff, settling gently upon a blade of grass; instead of a meteor which would quake the ground as it pounded the earth, leaving a gaping, enormous crater in its thunderous wake

how & where to express the outsize feelings; bold, brassy, bouncy brain bits, harnessed to her pounding heart with hoops of steel

not a concern for some... & she'll keep it as such... to protect the things she loves perhaps too much

perhaps if one truly expresses oneself with fervor and fire at all times, the impact is lessened; the proverbial "thousand suns" one's love is brighter than, dim with near-constant exposure to them

so, though it guts her inside, and makes her feel as if a gag has been tightened around her heart... she stems the tide of words she desperately wishes to express her undying love... and says simply,

"take care, my friend"

TAKE all you want from me, every scrap of my being is yours for the askingi CARE about you more than I care about myselfMY happiness increases tenfold when I see your bright smileyou're my best FRIEND

"take care, my friend"

Olivia has deduced that writing is: something which she enjoys doing, something that helps her become both a better person and a better writer, and something that she seems to have an aptitude for.She hopes that you've enjoyed her humble poetry. She's promised to write more in the future... and she promises she'll try not to refer to herself in the third person ever again. Until our dear friend Olivia makes a reappearance (which she promises will be sooner than later), we bid her a fond adieu.